


come along cub

by amandaskankovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaskankovich/pseuds/amandaskankovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her mother dies (for real this time) and due to being the best of limited options Mickey gets custody of Molly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come along cub

It happens so much sooner than it has any right to: your father is in jail and her mother is dead.  
"For real this time?" Mandy asks the social worker and you have no idea what she means by that but you don’t ask.  
Here’s the situation: Your father is in jail and not getting out any time soon (and even if he was…) and her mother is dead (for real this time)  
There’s no one on her mother’s side to take her all either dead or in jail or uninterested in the “delicate situation” the social worker says that is your little sister. That would be true for the majority of this side too normally.

 

But she’s not adjusting well to foster care.

There have been “incidents”.

 

You can understand how it looks on paper. How you would appear to be the best of what little options remain.  
You’re over 18.  
You have a house.  
A wife.  
A baby.  
On the surface it looks…right.  
You look at Mandy.  
You look at your wife.  
You look at Ian sitting at the kitchen table across from your wife’s girlfriend. He gives you a look that says, “It’ll be okay.”  
(“And you must be Mrs. Milkovich?” the social worker had asked when Nika had answered the door holding the baby. “Oh no…” Nika had said, “I’m…,” she took in the clipboard, the badge, the obvious cps-ness of the woman, “the nanny. Sveta!” she’d yelled up the stairs to the sleeping woman you’d married.)  
The social worker asks, “Well do you think you can take her? Is there some reason you wouldn’t be able to?”  
You think great.  
One more fucking thing I have to deal with.  
Why is it always you?

 

For two seconds you think: It doesn’t have to be.  
Just say no.

Just like that.  
Things you have from your father whether you want them or not: The shape of his hands when he was young and this drilled into you from birth:

 

The Milkoviches take care of their own.

 

They’re like wolves that way.

The words come out, “Yeah, yeah we can take her.”


End file.
